


When It Comes To You

by sapphicleksa



Series: FemslashFest 2017 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Pre-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:30:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicleksa/pseuds/sapphicleksa
Summary: Day One Prompt: Letting GoAngela ended things with Amélie (not the first time, either), but some loves are impossible to resist.Feat. Ana as the "stop hooking up with your friend's wife" voice of reason





	When It Comes To You

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she,” Gérard whispers to no one in particular, but Angela feels his words like a knife in her chest.

She swallows, hand curling tight around the armrest of her seat, and she feels another hand on top of hers in solidarity in sympathy, knows it’s Ana’s, but can’t bring herself to look away from the stage to thank her because Gérard is right. Amélie, dancing alone in the spotlight, is the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

When the show is finished it’s Gérard who rushes to her first, picks her up and spins her in the air, grinning as she laughs and tells him to be careful of the costume. It’s only right. And still, Angela is jealous. She hates herself for it. She has no right to be jealous of a man loving his wife. No right at all. And yet.

So she hangs back, even as Jack and Reinhardt and Gabriel take their turns telling her how marvelous she was. Her cheeks are bright pink and it’s not just the stage makeup.

“It’s better this way,” Ana murmurs. She’s stayed back too, warm eyes focused on Angela.

“I know,” Angela says, though she doesn’t know, she _thought_ she knew, but standing here with Amélie just a few steps away she wonders why she ever thought ending their whatever they had was a good idea. “She’s happy with him.”

“She is.” Ana sighs. “I believe she was happy with you, too, Angela, but…we can’t be with everyone we love.”

“It’s not fair.” She’s not whining, she’s just…resigned, but still crushed.

“No. It’s not. But it wouldn’t be fair to Gérard either.”

“Angela!”

She and Ana both turn at the bright voice calling her name. Amélie, coming towards them, towards Angela, really, with outstretched arms. She hugs Angela and kisses her cheeks and Angela is ashamed to say that she enjoys it, doesn’t accept it out of politeness but is relieved to be so close to Amélie again.

“I didn’t know if you would come,” she beams. “I’m so glad you did.”

Has she taken this as a sign, that Angela had changed her mind? She shouldn’t. Angela hadn’t. But that smile is so infectious that Angela can’t help but smile back. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Ana steps in, accepting her own hug and cheek pecks, and says, “I’ve got a party all ready at my place, to celebrate.”

“Oh, Ana, you didn’t have to, but thank you, really.” Amélie glances down at her costume then back up at Angela. There is mischief in her eyes, meant only for Angela. “Would you come help me get out of this and get ready?”

Angela blinks but Ana is quicker on the uptake. “Aren’t there people whose job is to help with that?”

“Yes, but they’re so busy, and this is such a large production, I thought I’d help them out a little.” She tilts her head at Angela.

Angela knows what she should say. No, I’m good, maybe Ana can help. It’s on the tip of her tongue. But she can’t. She doesn’t want to. The only thing she wants is to get Amélie alone and perhaps to get her out of that tutu. For all her morals and ethics she’s helpless in the face of a beautiful woman who she loves and who loves her back.

“It’s no problem, I’d be happy to help.” The light on Amélie’s face makes it immediately worth it.

Ana’s hand on her wrist as she starts to follow Amélie backstage, however…no, it still doesn’t change her decision. She’s too weak to resist and she’ll happily admit it. She pulls her hand away.

“Angela.” Ana’s voice is soft but firm. “Think about this.”

“Ana…it’s too late. This is the third time we’ve tried to end things. This is the second time _I’ve_ tried to end things, and every time I see her face, _every_ time, I fall further in love with her and I can’t…I can’t.” She ends decisively.

Ana is disappointed, maybe a little understanding, but mostly disappointed. Perhaps that will hurt Angela later, no doubt it will, she loves Ana, but for now all she can see is a dark-haired ballerina leading her down a path of beautiful destruction.

So she leaves Ana, slips past her friends, moving especially quickly past Gérard who she’s just not going to think about right now, and follows Amélie backstage.

The moment they’re alone in her dressing room they embrace, this time a real, full hug, the kind of lovers not of friends meeting up after a performance.

“You said we were over.” Amélie’s voice is playful, a little petulant. She’d been upset at Angela’s tearful declaration that they needed to end things, but even then, she hadn’t completely believed her. “You said…hm, let me think. This is a terrible idea, we’re just going to hurt everyone and make a mess, we could just be friends.”

“Shut up,” Angela smiles. “For the record, all of that is true, it’s just…all of that seems a little irrelevant compared to the idea of not being with you. Which, god, I feel like an inconsiderate ass saying that, but then I look at you, and you just make me a mess again.”

“A mess?” Her eyes look Angela from head to toe. “Darling this is one of, hm, I’ll be generous and say eight times I’ve seen you not covered in someone else’s blood. And it’s a _good_ look on you, Dr. Ziegler.”

“I meant an emotional mess, a gay mess,” Angela shakes her head, but she looks at Amélie with mischief now. “Do you not like me when I’m covered in blood?”

“I like you when you’ve just woken up in the morning and almost punch my brains out because you’re mad you’re not asleep anymore. If I can handle that I can handle anything.”

Angela laughs and kisses Amélie on the nose. “You know I have zero experience getting ballerinas out of fancy ass costumes, right?”

“You’re a surgeon, aren’t you?”

“That’s literally not the same thing.”

“It’s close enough. Just unlace it, and be gentle. This thing’s expensive.”

With a put-upon groan, Angela moves behind Amélie and carefully, slowly, begins to unlace the altogether too-complicated corset. Her voice is conversational when she speaks. “Ana won’t be happy.”

Amélie sighs. “She already wasn’t happy.”

“Well, she thought I could do it. I don’t know why given that I’ve already failed once.”

“She knows you’re strong. And you are, just not…”

“Not when it comes to you?” She kisses Amélie on the back of her neck, delighting in the way she shivers at her touch. “I don’t know that she’ll actually do anything. She and Gabriel are the only ones that know, but…I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Amélie says simply. “I don’t care what they say or do. I care about you.”

Angela wishes she could feel the same way. But Amélie doesn’t actually work at Overwatch, and Angela (and the rest of their friends) don’t have quite the same casual French view on affairs. Even if Gérard would be fine with it (which may or may not be true, Angela leaning towards the not side), Ana and Gabriel and Jack probably wouldn’t. Even with her doubts, though, even with all her worries, Angela knows they won’t actually stop her from doing this. She loves Amélie too much.

“I love you,” she says as she, finally, slides the costume down off of Amélie’s body.

Amélie turns and pulls Angela close to her.

“I’ll fight for you,” Angela whispers.

Amélie smiles, and they lean their foreheads together. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Have to send a shout-out to @theoroark for inspiring the whole "I can't get out of these clothes" bit, check out her "Masqueraid" for spiderbyte in that vein


End file.
